Year 17

35-for-35: 1999 – “Center of Attention” by Guster

November 17, 2016 by krisis

[Patreon-Nov16-Post-Bug][/Patreon-Nov16-Post-Bug] lost-and-gone-forever-guster Lindsay, Erika, and I formed an only-child club together in 2001, but its origins were in 1999 and 2000.

That’s when five of the more senior members of The Drexel Players – Erika, Kate, Laurel, Megan, and Anthony – all shared the top two floors of an old row home at 3418 Race Street. For all of us Freshman, it’s where we decamped after every informational meeting, audition, and rehearsal. It’s where I met so many of the friends I still hold dear today, and where I met my entire wedding party (aside from Gina, who still factors into this tale).

There were certain records that never left the CD spinner in that house, such that their songs have become synonymous with one or more of those people for me. (Yes, CD spinner, though we were into into the heyday of Napster at this point.). Some of the records were the stereotypical white college kid things you’d expect – Dave Matthews was a frequent play, especially his Live at Luther College with Tim Reynolds.

Perhaps influenced by that choice, there was also Guster’s Lost and Gone Forever, produced by longtime DMB collaborator Steve Lillywhite.

Sometimes when I hear an album for the first time it seems so melodically obvious that I cannot believe I haven’t heard it before. Other times an album is so perfect that I consider every song a slice of 5-star perfection and can listen to it endlessly.

Lost and Gone Forever is both.

There aren’t a lot of catchy, pop-oriented bands that break through mostly on the power of acoustic guitars and harmony, which is the trick Guster somehow pulls on songs like “Center of Attention.” The amount and intricacy of Ryan Miller and Adam Gardner’s harmony is really quite incredible. It hardly ever sticks to the straight thirds most bands plaster their songs with. At points they’re what I’d call the nearest male analog to The Indigo Girls.

“Center of Attention” doesn’t really use any chords. Listen carefully in the first verse as it reaches the “walls inside my head” prechorus. It’s just a pair of riffs churning against each other to imply tonality. It’s also a perfect example of how Guster eschews the typical rhythm section of drums and bass, with most songs rooted by a baritone-range guitar figure and drummer Brian Rosenworcel pounding on all manner of congos, bongos, and even typewriters.

Guster promo flat

That doesn’t sound like it should make for great, catchy pop music and honestly it didn’t on Guster’s first two records. However, the combination of Steve Lillywhite as a producer and this remarkable set of songs created a whole that you could have never predicted by looking at the parts.

Lost and Gone Forever is an amazing record about the changing nature of friendship and platonic love, about selfishness and getting over yourself, and you can sing along to every song on it.

One of us won’t last the night
Between you and me it’s no surprise
There’s two of us, both can’t be right
Neither will move till it’s over

I’m the center of attention
and the wall’s inside my head
And no one will ever know it
if I keep my mouth shut tight

The that motley crew of Drexel Players I met Freshman year shifted in 2000-2001 as I started this blog. Three members of the house moved away, which is how at one point Lindsay came to be renting Laurel’s back bedroom, and I came to be sitting around in the middle of the day with her and Erika watching game shows.

Just as there aren’t many memorable acoustic pop bands like Guster, there aren’t a lot of great, catchy songs about the mental defenses you construct as a clever only-child. “Center of Attention” is, without a doubt, the only-child’s anthem in that regard. I’d say, “maybe that’s just me,” but Lindsay and Erika have proven that it’s not. You’re not only your own protagonist, as every child is, but all of your adventures are entirely contained in the gossamer bubble of your brain.

Somehow (and I honestly still can’t quite explain it, even with copious posts from the time to aid my memory), the three of us wound up renting a house together in the fall of 2001. Three only children, each as selfish and stubborn as the other, all holed up in the top two floors of our own apartment on 44th street (where we’d later be joined by a fourth only-child (sort of), Gina)).

My own little world is what I deserve
Cause I am the only child there is
I’m king of it all, the belle of the ball
I promise I’ve always been like this
Forever the first, my bubble can’t burst
It’s almost like only I exist
Where everything’s fine
If I can keep my mouth shut tight, tight, tight

I think the reason we found each other and became (and remained) so close is because we’d each tried to outlast each other through the night and failed. Once that defense is finally knocked down, you’ve found someone with whom who you don’t always have to keep your mouth shut so tight.

From The Beginning: Dr. Seuss – The King’s Stilts (Book #3)

November 16, 2016 by krisis

[Patreon-Nov16-Post-Bug][/Patreon-Nov16-Post-Bug]It’s the third installment of my “From The Beginning” read of Dr. Seuss’s entire bibliography. Last week I covered his second book, The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins.

After that lengthy comedy of errors (sans the comedy), Dr. Seuss returned with another lengthy prose tale of royalty with The King’s Stilts. I despaired of reading this one with EV after her lack of interest in 500 Hats, and put it off for weeks. Finally, during one of her naps, I decided I’d simply read it myself for the review to spare her the boredom.

Since then, I estimate I have read this book another 40 times, at least – an entire waking day’s worth of reading.

I think I can safely say that neither of us are bored by it.

The King’s Stilt’s (1939) – Dr. Seuss

CK Says: – Must read!

Reading Time: 20-30 minutes

Gender Diversity: All named characters are male; housewives are mentioned and shown, but can’t keep their minds on their housework. However, the main character, Eric, is easily gender-flipped.

Ethnic Diversity: None

Challenging Language: commenced, furnace, pomp, dignity, impudent, feeble, measles, hobnail boots

Themes to Discuss: monarchy, “business hours” and busyness, work/life balance, predators and prey, conservation, conflicting instructions / when not to obey, lying and the importance of telling the truth, importance of communication

This prose story presents a fanciful story of a kingdom in peril due to one grinch-like goon who hates to see his king have fun. With a young protagonist, a thoroughly evil villain, and a threat that’s all-to-real in our world of global warming, this early Seuss book really holds up for modern readers!

That’s especially true for parents engaged in demanding jobs, since the central theme of the king’s stupor is that someone has taken away his work/life balance.

Right from the start, The King’s Stilts has more of Dr. Seuss’s characteristic whimsy than 500 Hats. King Birtram spends his days occupied with rather whimsical busywork that makes him the most industrious of all kings, although it’s hard to understand how he can have so many important decrees to sign each day!

Things get only more fanciful from there, with the king presiding over the changing of the guard of furious and clever Patrol Cats who hunt the dastardly Nizzards that threaten to plunge his kingdom below sea level by nibbling away the roots of Dike Trees. He then spends the day inspected as many Dike Trees as he can before five o’clock, when he races back home to grab his favorite pair of stilts.

the-kings-stilts-interior-06 We also get the perfect antagonist to a cheerful and dutiful king in the shape of the officious Lord Droon. Droon is an early Grinch prototype, a nobleman with nothing noble about him who proclaims, “Laughing spoils the shape of the face.” Lest you think he’s championing an ahead-of-its-time anti-wrinkle platform, he continues, “The lines at the corners of the mouth should go down.”

Lord Droon conspires to not only do away with the stilts (via the actions of the unwilling young Page Eric), but to convince the king it was his own subjects who stole the source of his fun so they would no longer suffer under the rule of an undignified king.

This leads to a terrific adventure for Eric, who is brave and capable in his mission to cheer up the kingdom and save the king. His efforts lead to an epic confrontation between King Birtram and the Patrol Cats versus the assembled Nizzards and the elemental force of the ocean! This single page is at once so epic and hilarious that I cannot help but giggle the entire time I’m looking at it. It’s truly one of Seuss’s best.

Beyond being an enjoyable read, what I loved most about The King’s Stilts is the careful balance of two key themes – duty versus play and conservation taking intent and action.

Despite being written in 1938, King’s Stilts serves as a perfect allegory for the importance of work/life balance and having passion for both. At the start we see a king who is the busiest of all kings. While you might argue that some of that business is busyness for the sake of busyness, there’s no arguing how committed the king is to his duties. However, that commitment can only occur if the king gets in some quality stilts-time wandering his kingdom. A lack of stilts sends him into a depression, even though he has the same amount of free time and the same important kingly duties. He has lost half of his passion, and without it the other half seems lacking.

the-kings-stilts-interior-14 (Also, don’t lose sight of the fact that this is a king who sees his position as a duty rather than an excuse for laziness or petulance. Sure, his work is as whimsical as his play, but it’s refreshing to read a children’s book about a committed member of the royalty.)

With a lack of attention from the king, we see his idyllic kingdom sharply decline in a series of cause and effect events. We go from uninspired cats to rising floodwaters and a scared populace who also cannot maintain their productivity. By placing the fate of the Dike Trees in the middle of this chain of events, Dr. Seuss emphasizes that our environment is not the first or last thing we must consider, but part of a spectrum of needs that keeps us happy and healthy. It’s a theme he’d return to more pointedly and with more whimsy, but it’s particularly effective here.

Also, Droon is one of Seuss’s better villains. He’s so over-the-top that he’d do some moustache-twirling if it wasn’t shamefully gleeful and smile-making. It makes Droon more readable (and laughable) when he gets ridiculous bits of business like being unable to hide the stilts under his cloak.

the-kings-stilts-interior-25 Despite nearly matching the length of 500 Hats, the prose in Stilts passes much more quickly while reading. Perhaps that’s down to the larger and more fanciful illustrations. Seuss repeats the spot-color red from 500 Hats, but here the color is used more liberally as a highlight. It’s the color of the stilts, but also of the Nizzards’ frilly necks and the Patrol Cats’ badges. Almost every major theme of the book gets a dash of red.

While it doesn’t exactly end with a moral, this story closes with everyone getting their due in a way that 500 Hats lacked, which adds to the satisfaction of the silly, high-stakes story.

(Plus, you can introduce your children to the “kid on stilts in an overcoat” trope!)

Dr. Seuss’s next book was the not-really-for-children The Seven Lady Godivas, which has not been printed for decades! Thus, I’ll be back next Wednesday with the Dr. Seuss’s fourth book for children (and, his first true franchise), Horton Hatches the Egg!

35-for-35: 1997 – “Shame On You” by The Indigo Girls

November 15, 2016 by krisis

[Patreon-Nov16-Post-Bug][/Patreon-Nov16-Post-Bug]I do this thing where a band floats around on the periphery of my world for many years until, finally, one of their later singles becomes my touchtone and doorway back through their catalog.

I did it with Ani DiFranco, with Tori Amos, with Radiohead, and in 1997 I unknowingly did it with The Indigo Girls – it just took another five years for me to really feel the impact.

I had heard of the Indigo Girls before, in passing. My friends sang “Closer to Fine” in a talent show and I had to have heard “Least Complicated” at some point to explain my later familiarity with it. Yet, it was “Shame On You” that clicked in my adolescent brain in the fleeting years of when alternative rock radio that would still play an acoustic song by a female singer.

Even before I was a guitar player I appreciated the utter simplicity of this three-chord tune with it simple I-IV-V progression. It reminds me of Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl,” and every time Amy Ray says “la la la, shame on you” I always want to shout back, “sha la-la la-la la-la la, la ti da!”

(I swear, I had no thoughts of how politically relevant this pick would be when I made it a few weeks ago. That’s folk music for you.)

Despite hitting all the right Lilith Fair influences to make me love it, the song resonated with teenaged me on another level because it was one of the few songs on the radio at the time aside from Rage Against The Machine that was making a statement about anything. The song starts with Ray relating the story of her friends the window washers.

My friends they wash the windows and they shine in the sun
They tell me wake up early in the morning sometime
See what a beautiful job we done
I say let’s put on some tunes sing along do little all day
Go down to the riverside take off our shoes wash these sins away

The river said, “la la la,” it said shame on you

This was a different sort of blue collar nod than you’d expect to hear in a Springsteen tune. Ray wasn’t saying she was an every-woman, or bemoaning the plight of an underclass. She says “my friends” as she introduces these people who hang from the sides of tall buildings while she’s on the road as a rock star.

Her friends want her to appreciate their windows like they appreciates her music. She wants to take off her shoes with them and head down to the river, where they’re all the same and they can hear the water burble “shame on you” as their sins wash past downstream.

In retrospect, is this sort of romanticism of blue collar ideals from someone far outside their sphere more of a downward punch than Springsteen similar everyman vibe? Usually I’d say “yes,” but Ray continues…

I go down to Chicano city park because it makes me feel so fine
When the weeds go down you can see up close in the dead of the winter time
But when the summer comes everything’s in bloom and you wouldn’t know it’s there
The white folks like to pretend it’s not but their music’s in the air

And you can hear ’em singing, “la la la,” they say shame on you
And you can feel them dancing, “la la la,” they say shame on you

She has now identified herself, the narrator, as an outsider to all of the beauty that she witnesses. Is that patronizing or is it acceptance and affection for the other?

I was particularly struck at the the time at the gently accusatory way she says, “the white folks like to pretend.” Isn’t she a white folk, too? Or, maybe that’s only a label for those pretenders, and everyone else are just people.

And who is now admonishing “shame on you”? Is it the white folks, clucking at the Chicano culture? Or, the Chicano clucking in response that the white folks refuse to enjoy it even when it puts a smile on their face.

Or both?

My friend Tanner she says you know me and Jesus we’re of the same heart
The only thing that keeps us distant is that I keep fuckin’ up
I said come on down to Chicano city park wash your blues away
The beautiful ladies walk on by
You know I never know what to say

And they’ll be singing,” oo la-la-la-la-la, shame on you”
They’ll be dancin’, “la la la,” they say shame on you, shame on you

Wow. Had I heard anyone on the radio before so casually state their attraction to someone of the same gender? Who’s the shame on now? Ray for being attracted to them, or Ray for never knowing what to say?

That’s why I am so convinced this song isn’t punching down, not even punching up at the white folks. It’s not about punching. It’s about dancing, and finding those shared little moments of humanity with people who aren’t like you in the slightest. It’s about the shame in not admitting how much you just want to kick off your shoes and dance along.

Oh, wait, there is the one punch…

Let’s go road block trippin’ in the
Middle of the night up in Gainesville town
There’ll be blue lights flashing down the long dirt road
When they ask me to step out
They say, “We be looking for illegal immigrants can we check your car?”
I say, “You know it’s funny I think we were on the same boat back in 1694.”

And I said, “oo la-la-la-la-la, shame on you”

That line has always stuck with me, and it has never before felt so relevant as it has this year. Or this past week.

How can you turn your nose up and close your doors completely to the immigrants who want to forge a life in America when that’s how all of us got here … except for our indigenous people, to whom we all owe a debt that we can’t ever repay for destroying their land, their people, and their culture? Who are we to want to build a wall between us and Mexico when they have an actual, persistent culture to bring into our melting pot of customs imported from afar?

I wasn’t ready to really love The Indigo Girls until I borrowed their older CDs from my first boss, Laura, back in 2003, but as soon as I heard those records I realized that I already loved this band, and I probably always will.

(And, in a fun tie-in to yesterday’s post: E and I walked up the aisle together to a cello version of “Least Complicated!”)

35-for-35: 1996 – “On The Way Up” by Peter Mulvey

November 14, 2016 by krisis

[Patreon-Nov16-Post-Bug][/Patreon-Nov16-Post-Bug]How do you remember the moments that changed the course of your life? Can you replay them perfectly over and over in digital crispness? Did time stand still? Do you feel like you were standing outside of yourself, watching, so you can rotate the entire scene around you like a panorama?

I didn’t realize it at the time, but the first time I saw Peter Mulvey play it altered the course of my life. There’s some other timeline where young Peter stayed at dinner at Serrano’s a little bit longer and skipped seeing the unknown opening act for Susan Werner and missed him entirely.

If you have Amazon Prime you can stream this AMAZING record for free! Just click!

Would I have still heard his music down the line? Maybe, but it would not have had the megaton impact on me as seeing Peter Mulvey at the height of his youthful powers from less than ten feet away.

At the time, male singers comprised approximately 1% of my CD collection, so seeing his name on the bill had no special meaning for me. My friend Rachel and I took our reserved seats at a table in the front of the house and waited for the opening act to take the stage.

He was everything I loved on guitar and something more – all of the DiFranco tunings, all of the percussive, staccato strumming, plus other things – partial capos and half barres over open strings. My songs like “Icy Cold,” “Lost,” and “Relief” could never exist without him.

One of the less show-y songs in his set was “On The Way Up,” a song from his seminal album Rapture. It didn’t have the pyrotechnics of his half-capo, mega-detuned “Love Is Not Enough” but it still left its mark. It’s a simple tune in three, a song about constantly rising but never feeling like you’re enough – not for yourself or for the partner you love.

I think it was the song that won my mother over to Peter later, listening in our tiny red kitchen, so that she became my companion for future shows. And, later, it became one amongst E’s many favorites. We used to refer to it as “our hypothetical, eventual first dance,” for an equally hypothetical, eventual wedding we weren’t discussing seriously.

Which brings me back to Serrano’s and The Tin Angel, 11 years later. Peter Mulvey was playing there on a Friday night, and E and I were attending with both of our mothers for their birthdays, which were 11 years apart. I had reached out to Peter earlier in the week to see if I could stop by during his soundcheck and have him finally teach me the proper way to play his song “The Wings of the Ragman,” which I had approximated here on CK in Trio but never quite could get the hang of.

E did not want to join me, but I insisted. “He’s my guitar idol,” I pleaded with her. “This would be like if you got to sing with…” I sputtered, “I don’t know. Pat Benatar. What if you were going to sing with Pat Benatar? I would come and witness that moment, and maybe snap a photo for you.”

E finally acquiesced, and so we found ourselves upstairs in the Tin Angel just after 6pm on a Friday, the room empty save for the two of us, Peter, and the sound man. Peter came back and said hi, shook our hands, and asked me if I wanted to get out my guitar and run through “Ragman.” I complied, just barely, my hands shaking so much I could barely get into the right tuning. He started walking me through the song, explaining in his easy way why certain voicings were different and why he was using the dominant and so forth before eventually realizing I was ready to faint and saying, “You know what, maybe I should write this down for you.”

And that is how I sat and watched while Peter Mulvey tabbed out his own song for me.

That is not the end of the story.

After we were through with my lesson, he said, “You know, you ought to stick around while I sound check. I might play a few things I won’t be doing during the show.” E and I found ourself seated in the first row of chairs behind the door of the Tin while Peter walked up on stage and began working with the sound guy to get his guitar EQ just right. After playing the portions of a few songs, he began to play “On The Way Up.”

I leaned over to E.

“We should dance,” I said, in a husky whisper.

“Dance?” she replied, incredulously. “You want to dance?”

It took some coaxing, but I convinced her to get up out of her seat and waltz subtly with me at the back of the club.

“You know, while we’re here and he’s playing this song, maybe we should ask him to play our hypothetical, eventual wedding.”

“Peter,” she hissed into my ear while we waltzed, “that is crazy.”

“You’re right,” I said, slipping my hand into my pocket to draw out a tiny black box, “that why I asked him to play our engagement instead.”

And that is how E and I became engaged. You see, I had been trading emails all week, first with Peter’s management, and then with Peter himself, to arrange this setup, having already obtained a ring which was proverbially burning a hole in my pocket. To his eternal credit, Peter tried mightily to talk me out of my plan to make sure I wasn’t doing something silly or fannish, but I eventually prevailed upon him how much the Tin Angel and his song meant to me and to us, and so he agreed to play along.

Also to his eternal credit, when Peter saw that the deed was done, he effortlessly segued into “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.”

Here is Peter Mulvey playing “On The Way Up” during his set that evening: [Read more…] about 35-for-35: 1996 – “On The Way Up” by Peter Mulvey

on action

November 9, 2016 by krisis

I want to talk to you for a moment about the difference between support and action.

It has both nothing and everything to do with politics, but it’s not political.

Two years ago I lost a friend and one of the people I loved most on this planet, Dante Bucci. It was a crushing loss and still is. I can’t even type his name without crying, so I am crying right now as I write this.

dante-hands-photo-pic-5 I saw so many friends who I hadn’t seen in a long time at the events held to remember Dante’s life. I gave all of those friends massive hugs, because that’s what Dante did every time he saw me. I spoke to them. We shared stories with one another.

One conversation, in particular, sticks out. It was with a brilliant musician and a phenomenally kind human being. As we talked, I excitedly rattled of all of the aspects of her life I was proud and excited to be supporting. Her shows, her new songs, her tours. She looked genuinely shocked.

“Wow, Peter,” she said with a huge smile, “I had no idea you cared so much!”

“Well, I LIKE all of your posts and I listen to your songs!” I replied. We kept talking and we’ve kept on talking since then, but I haven’t liked any more of her posts.

I haven’t liked, or hearted, or little round angry-faced a single message on Facebook since that day.

I think of all the times I silently supported Dante instead of telling him I loved him, that he was brilliant, and that he made me want to be a better musician. I think of that musician friend and how she had no idea how much I cared about her success.

Now, every time I am tempted to add my silent support to something I instead say those words of support. When I love one of my friends’ songs I tell them about it in the most effusive language I can summon.

Like buttons, smiley faces, emojis, and animated GIFs are fun because pictures can be worth a 1,000 words. They are a wonderful shorthand for support, agreement, and affection. People treat them as digital currency.

Don’t let having them at your disposal cause you to lose sight of the power of words – not just words spoken to those you care about, but even to strangers who have said or done something you value.

There are people today across America who are expressing very personal feelings – fears and aspirations – and you are going to be tempted to use your hands to click a button to express your support for them. Please don’t. Please use your voice to say something instead. I promise you, it’s going to matter so much to them.

Furthermore, don’t let your ability to comment in support from the comfort of your home and your own bubble of safety cause you to lose sight of the power of action. Going to dinner with a friend is action. Going to a show is an action. Hugging someone you love is an action. Intervening if you see someone else being harassed or bullied is an action.

So is voting.

Please take action when you can, my readers, when you feel able and safe to do so When you can’t please make your voice heard.

Please be safe and well. And, if you ever need to talk, I’m only a tweet or an email away.